


Time Out

by winchestersinthedrift



Series: Het SPN Oneshots [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Playful Sex, Reader-Insert, Vaginal Sex, Wall Sex, Yoga, yoga!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 17:56:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5549930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winchestersinthedrift/pseuds/winchestersinthedrift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has been taking a few yoga lessons from you. Today's routine is a little ... non-routine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Out

‘How’s it look?’ said Sam.

You think he’s probably doing fine - after all, in the few weeks he’s been here he’s proven to be the best yoga beginner you’ve ever seen - but to be honest your technique evaluation isn’t exactly on point because you’re having a hard time seeing anything beyond Sam’s ass in the air right in front of you and the long muscles of his thighs and calves stretched out straight below them. Fuck he has a good ass, slim but rounded and muscled. You try not to look at the bulge below it where his balls stretch the spandex a little.

‘Y/N?’ Sam says again, and you step back, flustered.

‘Good,’ you say, ‘it looks great Sam.’ You pause a minute and step to the wall, grab a yellow stopwatch off a shelf. ‘K, couple more. How about you do the warrior? I’ll time you - whattaya think you can do - 60 seconds? K, hold it till the beep.’

The warrior looks great on Sam which to be perfectly honest is most of the reason you picked it: broad chest filled and arms extended (Sam’s armspan is frankly _obscene_ ), muscles flexing easily with long practice, one leg extended straight and the other bent at the knee, pulling him into a deep side squat. He holds it easily till the timer beeps and after too for a few seconds, teasing you with a sidelong look till you go over and tap him out, giggling. (Positively _giggling_! What’s happening to you??)

‘One more,’ you say, knowing perfectly well what’s happening and also what you hope is going to happen next. ‘Bridge.’

It’s a pretty standard pose, shoulders back against the floor and body held ramrod straight to the knees, which were bent with calves perpendicular to the floor.

‘Bit easy,’ says Sam, so cocky that you bite your lip. He gets into position and you hit the timer.

‘K, hold it, 60 seconds.’

There’s something different in your voice this time and Sam’s eyes flick up, but he doesn’t move. You take a breath and go over to stand in front of his knees, tip forward a little so your thighs are resting against his calves. You slide your hands down over his thighs all the way to the bottom of his yoga shorts and pause there, on the brink of no return. You can feel him looking at you and glance up at the same time that you slip your thumbs up under the hem of his shorts; he hasn’t relaxed the tautness of the pose, but his lips have parted and you can see his tongue just barely glistening between them. You rub the heels of your hands down, swivelling them into the inside of his thighs, and the muscles of his stomach twitch and he grunts, more a short punchy breath than anything, but it’s enough.

‘Hold it till the beeper,’ you say again, and this time you slide your hands all the way up to his waistband.

You aren’t fast enough though because just as you tug the waistband over the head of his cock the beeper goes off ( _fuck_ ). He catches on quick because before it’s hit the third beep he’s jumped to his feet in one fluid motion and barreled into you, hoisted you up with one arm and carried you with him to the wall, where he hits the beeper with the side of one fist. Before you’ve quite registered being picked up he has you up against the wall, held up just by the weight of his torso between your thighs cause his hands are both busy elsewhere, one running hard up the curve of your waist and the other up the side of your neck, his thumb framing the line of your jaw. Your hips buck exploratorily of their own accord and he pushes back, grinning a little an inch or two from your face.

‘Stay still,’ he says, husky, ‘remember? till the beeper goes.’

You take a quick breath and stop moving, go slack and passive under him and it makes the heat eddy and pool even faster under your skin. Sam shifts his hand on your jaw and kisses you, hard sharp little kisses at first but as he goes his lips soften and open. When you flutter the tip of your tongue against his lips he catches and sucks it a little, running one hand down your side and slipping it round into the back of your yoga pants, right in, panties and all, so that his hand is cupping one whole side of your ass and his fingers are brushing against the wetness in your panties –

‘Ding!’ goes the beeper cheerfully and he steps back, breathing heavily, and lets you down on the floor. He steps back a bit with his arms crossed and one corner of his mouth hooking up and the head of his cock still pink and swollen out the top of his shorts, _fucker_. The beeper’s still chirping behind you and you reach back to punch it while you study him carefully, head tilted to one side.

‘Hands on the pull-up bar,’ you say, and he backs towards it, eyes not leaving your face, and grips it on either side of his head, clasping the bar with his arms spread wide apart. He flashes you a shit-eating grin.

‘That do?’

You don’t bother to answer, just drop to your knees and tug his shorts right down around his thighs. Honestly your grasp on any shred of witty poise is just about shot cause Sam is overwhelming right now, stretched out on display all leonine and muscular, shaggy hair fallen a little into his face – big enough to take you in a second if he wanted, but instead just looking down at you, biceps jumping a little. Your face is in his crotch already, nuzzling his balls and breathing in his scent, stronger with the sweat of your recent workout. He makes a little noise, like a grunt of muted half-surprise, and you run your hands and forearms up around his hips and grab the meat of his ass in both hands while you start to suck him off, tongueing round the ridge of his cock and wetting your lips to ease the slide.

When the buzzer goes off this time you don’t want to let go, don’t want to lose the taste of him or the giddy-breath weight of him in your mouth, but you stand up and take two steps to grab it off the wall. Rules are rules. You’re wet with anticipation even before Sam grabs you from behind, knocks you a little off the floor with his momentum and pushes you down on your hands and knees. He presses up behind and over you, arms bracketing yours and the roll of his shoulders brushing against your back. You widen your knees, push back a little into his hips, and you can feel the slick heaviness of his cock against your ass.

‘Uuughgh,’ you say, the first noise you’ve made since you started. Sam doesn’t answer, just lowers himself so his chest is against your back and puts one forearm across your collarbone, still pressing down a little with the weight of his body. You buckle your elbows and cross your forearms flat against the floor. For a moment or two Sam is there, mouthing wet and bitey back along your neck, breathing so soft and wet over the top of your spine that a long frisson runs down right down through the soles of your feet. Then one hand is grabbing the whole of one hip and he’s pulling your yoga pants down over the curve of your ass and breathing harder and -

You make another noise as he fills you, low and pitchy and soft, and your forehead might have rugburn later from the force of that first push but you don’t care, you hardly even notice, cause _ffffuck_ your flesh is remembering what it always forgets between times, the deep primal fulness of having him, of squeezing around him and _knowing_ him there inside.

The beeper goes just as he starts to thrust (he laughs, silent, but you feel it in his hands and through his chest and in the brush of his balls against you) but the goddamn thing is still in your hand. You switch it off and toss it to the far side of the room.


End file.
